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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381992">Mistletoe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trollmor/pseuds/Trollmor'>Trollmor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Mistletoe, Other, arcane order soft moments, skraelroc, soft fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:00:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trollmor/pseuds/Trollmor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift drabble for a friend. </p><p>Soft Skraelroc fluff in which Skrael gives the mistletoe tradition a try.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellroc/Skrael (Tales of Arcadia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mistletoe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>The mistletoe was not a new tradition, Skrael reflected as he twirled the mistletoe sprig between his fingers. It was one of the few traditions around that he could still recognize. Even if the purpose had been slightly warped, the <em>kissing</em> part seemed to be fairly consistent. But would Bellroc agree? Or… would they recoil?</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>Skrael was <em>not</em> nervous, not at all – but he might be moved to admit to a certain sting of trepidation.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>There!</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was up. No turning back now. When Bellroc spotted it, they would wonder regardless if he acted upon it or not. Feeling like he had set a trap of some kind, he returned to the book he was carefully putting together, binding the separate pages with thin strips of leather.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He didn’t have to wait long.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Minutes later Bellroc marched inside, so decisive that Skrael could already tell they had news.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>”I have found them.” Their staff connected to the rough stone with a sharp crack. Nari and her wizard friend had managed to evade them for too long – and perhaps if he was forced to complete honesty, they had not searched as thoroughly as they could have. Neither of them had given voice to the concern, but it was clear to Skrael that both of them at least partly regretted how far things had gone with Nari. Would they be able to bridge that rift somehow? Time would tell.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>”Excellent.” Skrael rose in the air, moving closer. The pleased look on Bellroc’s face almost made him forget about the mistletoe, and in the last moment he spotted it and stopped short in the doorway. ”Ah, a moment-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sudden stop made his companion halt and he could hear the subtle wooden clacks of their eyes darting –  the only sign of their bewilderment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He leaned in close, given them ample time to retreat if they wanted to. When they didn’t, he boldly reached up to trace their jawline with his fingertips – hastily adjusting his body heat to just below room temperature which was bordering on unpleasant for him but bearable.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Closer still and then, just the softest touch as he gently brushed their lips together. The sensation was at the same time intense and unnoticeable, the unseen tension of their powers readying to meet their opposites, like the pull of a magnet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He wanted to do it again, but – had they liked it? Their face was expressionless. Shocked? He couldn’t tell.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>One heartbeat passed, two- then he reached up and plucked the mistletoe from above their head, pressing it into their hand until he could feel their fingers curling around it, sluggishly, delayed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>”It would be unlucky not to”, he said by way of explanation, given them a way out should they prefer to ignore it. And if they preferred not to… well, there was no such thing as an <em>accidental</em> mistletoe, was there?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He moved away to give them some space, to not crowd them or push them – <em>you corner Bellroc at your own peril</em> - and yet he had the sudden instinct to stay close, to wait for their reaction. Ignoring the impulse, he moved further away, forcing his mind back on the hunt.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In doing so, he missed the way the wooden eyes were locked on the mistletoe still clutched between their ashen fingers, and the free hand that came up to touch their lips…</p>
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